


Friendly Fire

by 707



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/707/pseuds/707
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU</p><p>They're not friends. They're strangers, fuck buddies, lovers, enemies, but never just friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strangers

They’re not friends.

 

They’re strangers.

 

Clarke thinks they’re not supposed to meet, but somehow they do anyways. Because if anything even remotely resembled her fate, Clarke thinks that it would be Lexa Woods. 

 

It’s late summer and the weather is hot and dry. Without moisture in the air, dust settled uncomfortably along the back of Clarke’s neck as she drove. Cranking the air conditioning up higher, she grumbled irritably in the heat.

 

“Move the fuck out of my way.” She's clutching the wheel tightly. Clicking on her phone to check the time, she sees 7:02 flash cheerily across the screen and her anger doubles. 

 

“Perfect.” School hasn’t even begun and she’s already late. 

 

“Why won’t you moooove!” Clarke groans, throwing her head back and honking her horn for the fifth time. In front of her, an old Subaru crawls forward slowly. _So_ slowly that she is tempted to lean out the window and check if the snails are moving faster. They probably were. 

 

Frustration coupled with the fact that it is _way_ too early in the morning for this made Clarke irrationally angry and she slams down on the horn once again. She briefly catches a glimpse of wavy brown hair as the driver in front of her shifts to the side. They are entering Polis University’s parking lot now and Clarke sighs in relief when she is finally able to turn away from that godawful car. The lot is filled. She has to circle around twice before she spots a car that is backing out and sits impatiently, tapping her fingers and setting her blinker on to let others know that that spot is taken _._ It took an unjustifiably long time for the car to back out and just as Clarke is prepared to make the turn, another car swerves into the spot. _Her_ spot. 

 

Clarke’s mouth falls open. It was the same blue Subaru. 

 

“Oh fuck no!” Clarke growls as the engine shuts off. She shoves open her door, her own car put on park but still running as she storms over to the offending vehicle. She blames the heat and the _terrible_ day she's having because she is usually never this moody. The car door is barely open before Clarke is grabbing at the edge and shoving it the rest of the way, using her other hand to push the driver (who lets out a startled yelp) back into the seat. 

 

“Get back in your seat,” she hisses, “and move your fucking car out of my spot!”

 

Steely green eyes snap up to meet hers and it’s like the whole world slows to a screeching halt. _Oh shit._

 

“What the fuck?” The girl stares up at her in shock, but Clarke is barely even paying attention. Slow-driver-girl was hot. Not like, ordinary hot. Hot hot. Easily the most attractive human being Clarke has ever laid eyes upon. She blinks twice, gaze tracing over soft, wavy hair, elevated cheekbones, and pretty bowed lips which she realizes… are moving. 

 

“Can you talk?” The girl snaps. Her eyes shoot back to meet the green pair staring up at her. Oh, she's angry. The girl is looking at her like she’s crazy and Clarke’s anger returns all at once. 

 

“You.” She hisses. “Because of you, I’m late to my check-in which, by the way, I already had to reschedule!”

 

“Me?” The girl has the decency to look offended. 

 

“Yes you! You drive like a snail!” Even as she says it, Clarke feels a flush of heat flood through her as the girl’s jaw tightens and her eyes flash dangerously. Her hand is still fisted in the girl’s shirt and she’s pretty sure that it’s going to be ruined once she lets go.

 

“I do not! I was just following the speed limit.” Her response is clipped and honestly Clarke has no idea why she’s feeling so aroused right now. She presses a knee between girl’s legs to support herself as she swings under the hood bringing them face to face. 

 

“Fuck the speed limit!” She snarls, reveling in how the girl scoots back an inch eyes dropping to her lips. “You were driving well under forty and you know it!”

 

“I was not. Rules are meant to be followed. Do not expect me to _break the law_ just to help you get to school on time. Maybe you should have planned better for that.” The girl growls, apparently coming to her senses and crowding forward. Her eyes are narrowed into slits and Clarke can't help but think that they look a lot better wide open. She presses forward as well though, never one to give in to a fight. 

 

“Okay, you know what. I don’t care. Just give me my spot back!” She doesn't miss the moment when the girl’s eyes dip again to her mouth before she catches herself and snaps them back up meeting Clarke’s gaze cooly.

 

“I was here first, so actually this spot is mine.”

 

They’re so close that Clarke can almost taste her as mint-fresh breath washes across her face. The scent is intoxicating and she feels herself losing focus. She shoves the girl harder into the seat and shakes her head rapidly. 

 

“Nuh uh. I’ve been waiting for it and then you just- you came in out of nowhere and stole it!”

 

Instead of apologizing, the girl smirks. Like honest to god _smirks._ And oh, there is no going back now.  _She knows I was waiting for it!_ Clarke is wild with anger and she clenches her hand tighter around the fabric of the girl’s white shirt. The girl’s eyes narrow even further and her hand comes up to close around Clarke’s wrist, yanking Clarke’s fingers away from the her shirt (which, as suspected, is wrinkled). The touch registers sharp like a spear through her anger and Clarke swallows thickly, trying to drown out her unexpected desire. _What the fuck is going on?_ The girl pushes her back until her back hits the wheel and she wobbles unsteadily on the foot that is still caught outside of the car. She’s about to yank her hand away when an arm snakes around her waist to support her and she lets out a small cry in surprise. 

 

The girl says lowly, “No way in hell am I going to give up my spot to the girl who barged into my car, yelled in my face, and then ruined my favorite shirt.” She jabs her index finger at the set of wrinkles neatly lining her clothes. 

 

Clarke scowls angrily, eyes dropping to the girl’s lips. “Okay, so you don’t like me. That’s fine because I don’t like you either, so just do us both a favor and give up the spot and I’ll leave.”

 

The girl’s eyes flash again in defiance. Clarke’s breathing picks up and she curses her luck. _Why the fuck is she so attractive?_ She wants to look away, but something about those green eyes holds her in place. She's losing ground in this debate and she knows it. A part of her wants to be mad, shake herself out of it, and demand her spot back as planned. But then there's this other half that is completely and utterly  _mesmerized_ by the girl before her. The part that has her head spinning wildly, heart pumping, and her eyes flickering down to the tantalizing pink of the girl's lips. And eventually that's the part that wins out because with two words, Clarke's world takes a one-eighty degree turn. 

 

“Make me.”

 

It only takes about a split second for her to decide and her hands wrap around the girl’s neck as she slams their mouths together. It takes about another second for the girl to respond and that's when her mouth starts moving. Clarke’s mind goes blank. _Holy hell._ She can do little more than moan weakly and tangle her hands into the girl’s hair as the girl swipes across her bottom lip with her tongue and nibbles on the sensitive flesh. It’s not enough and Clarke wants more. More, more, more. _Jesus Christ, I’ve known her for less than 5 minutes._

 

Clarke shifts forwards desperately only to come to a stop when the girl hisses and abruptly draws back. Clarke’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as the arm under her loosens leaving her balancing precariously. She shifts to get a better position and the girl honest to god _moans_ and that’s when she sees it. Her knee drives into the juncture of the girl’s legs with each movement and Clarke smiles wide. She continues to massage her through her jeans as their mouths meet and teeth clash awkwardly. 

 

“Fuck!” The girl gasps against her lips, arching into her. Their chests rub together and Clarke lets out a shaky breath. Her fingers fumble frantically with the button on the girl’s jeans as she shifts her leg to the side and swings her other one into the car, successfully straddling the girl. Almost immediately, the girl’s arms wrap around her waist, pressing her closer as she seals their lips together in another searing kiss. Clarke’s head is spinning, whether of oxygen deprivation or of something else she's not sure. All her energy is focused on stuffing her fingers down the girl’s pants which works out well enough because seconds later the girl is panting and groaning against her lips as Clarke draws tight circles around her clit. 

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The girl whines, spreading her legs wider. Her head hits the leather seat behind her as she groans loudly. The fingers move faster, flicking and rubbing and teasing until she's pretty sure that the girl is about to cum. And that’s when Clarke decides to pull her hand out. The girl’s eyes immediately snap open angrily. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She hisses.

 

Clarke reaches over silently and slams the car door closed before turning back to kiss her. 

 

“Relax.” Clarke says coyly. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear.” 

 

The girl flushes and looks away and Clarke thinks that she can’t get any cuter. The girl recovers pretty quickly though and she impatiently bucks her hips upwards.  

 

“Okay well, now that they won’t will you please…” The girl trails off, but squeezes Clarke’s ass pointedly to let her know exactly what she should please do. 

 

Clarke doesn’t waste time shoving her hand back down the girl’s pants, using the other to pull the girl forwards by the back of her neck. Their lips meet just as Clarke pushes two fingers into the girl’s hot center and she swallows her moans hungrily. Clarke groans at the feeling. She's tight and so hot. The wet muscles wrap around her fingers, drawing her in deeper. To be honest, it hurts her wrist and makes her fingers ache, but when the girl’s eyes snap open and her mouth parts in a wordless _oh_ as she clenches hard around Clarke’s fingers, Clarke thinks she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. 

 

A few seconds later, she gently pulls her fingers out and hums when the girl’s hips jerk in response from oversensitivity. She’s uncomfortably sticky from watching the girl come undone, but it’s not a problem because it takes all of four seconds of sloppy, soft kissing before she is slammed roughly back against the wheel. Clarke can only squeeze her eyes shut and try not deafen her as the girl returns the favor with enthusiasm. 

 

 

//

 

 

“You’re honestly telling me that you’re late because you spent thirty minutes in a car fucking some random girl who you conveniently didn’t get the name of?” 

 

“Okay, stop.” Clarke flushes. “I was already ten minutes late and-”

 

“Oh well pardon me. That explains everything,” Raven says sarcastically. “You only spent _twenty_ minutes fucking her so you should’ve had time to go back and get the write-up, right?” 

 

“Raven,” Clarke sighs, rubbing her face. “I’m really really sorry. I don’t know how I forgot it. I swear I printed it and it was just sitting on the printer and I swear I just- God, I’m honestly such a mess right now.”

 

At that, Raven deflates a little. She comes around the row of desks separating the two and plops down next to her. The classroom is vacant due to Clarke’s tardiness and the professor had left after completing Clarke’s personalized version of the before school check-in that the course required. In her haste to leave her temporary apartment (school dorms don’t open until a week later), she had forgotten to bring the only thing that was due today and the only thing that Raven had reminded her time and time again to bring— the summer writeup. Clarke has never felt so disappointed in herself and sighs again into her hand. 

 

Raven, who was a her best friend ever since the good old middle school days, would never let such a petty mistake ruin their entire friendship, but never failed to make Clarke pay her back in one way or another (last mistake cost her three months worth of dishes). Right now, however, there is no talk of debts, probably because she sees how Clarke is still wallowing in her own misery. 

 

Raven sighs and offers a small, lopsided smile. “Was she at least a good fuck?” 

 

Clarke groans and burrows deeper into her embarrassment. The words, when they come, are muffled by her hands. 

 

“She was amazing.”

 

“Oh amazing.” Raven’s eyebrows shoot up. “Haven’t heard that one yet.”

 

It’s genuine. Clarke has high expectations. 

 

“Shut up.”

 

“So were you shitting me when you said that you didn’t catch her name or were you lying? Because I’m kind of close to being done with my anger phase right now so you can tell me.”

 

“No, we sort of… almost got caught.”

 

Clarke peeks out from behind her hands, a rosy tint settling high in her cheeks as she recalls how another student had approached their car, politely informing them that Clarke’s car was still running. She also remembers with a wince how the girl had basically shoved open the door and kicked Clarke out, eyes wide and frantic, claiming to the student that she herself had nothing to do with it. Clarke was forced to let the girl win and drove off in search for another parking spot. It all happened so fast— one minute she was panting in a post-orgasm bliss and the next her ass was hitting the cement hard— she wasn’t sure if she had imagined the whole ordeal or not. But the button on her jeans was still undone and it served as proof that her encounter with the girl was very much real. 

 

“Wow, just wow. I’m at loss, Griffin. I thought high school Clarke was bad, but it turns out that high school Clarke has _nothing_ on college Clarke.”

 

Clarke huffs in annoyance, most of it aimed at herself. 

 

“I was actually so mad at her, but then— Jesus Christ— she had these godly cheekbones, and her jawline…” She trails off helplessly, waving her hand in the air. 

 

Raven just smirks. “Yeah, you’ve got it bad.”

 

Clarke can only groan.

 

“Bright side is that it’s a small world and you’re bound to run into her sometime.”

 

For the sake of her clenching thighs and rising libido, she desperately hopes that Raven is right.

 

 

//

 

 

Raven is right. 

 

(“Yeah bitch, I’m always right.”)

 

It’s nearing the middle of September, but the weather is as relentless as ever. Waves of heat bounce off the pavement and Clarke sighs in appreciation once she makes it into the air conditioned library. She’s so busy feeling relieved when Raven leads her to a table right under a vent that she almost doesn’t notice her. And when she does, she almost chokes to death on her drink.

 

“Shit.” Clarke hisses, shoving a folder in front of her face and barely noticing how essays and notes scatter over the table and ground. 

 

“What.” Raven plays disinterestedly at the ends of her hair, legs propped up on the seat beside her. 

 

“That’s her.”

 

She grabs Raven and yanks her forwards, ignoring how she yelps in surprise. She shoves a finger past her folder fort at the brunette half obscured by the book shelves. There is enough of her face showing that Clarke is positively sure that its her. Raven is confused for a second as she takes in Clarke’s burst of crazy excitement before it clicks and she cranes her neck not subtly at all to get a good look.

 

“Damn Griffin, she looks like a bitch if I’ve ever seen one. Hot, but still a bitch.”

 

“She is.” Clarke growls out in frustration, peaking at her over the folders and tapping her fingers restlessly on the desk. Raven sees and rolls her eyes.

 

“Maybe you should go over and ask her for her name... number, major, date of birth, how many children are ideal, you know, just in case you guys decide to adopt early.”

 

“Raven-”

 

“Or just be like ‘Hey I’m not sure if I’m into girls or not. I know we banged once, wanna try again just in case?’”

 

“Raven.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right who am I kidding, you’re so gay. It hurts me to watch you flounder in the face of pretty girls.”

 

“I’m bi, Raven, we’ve been over this.”

 

“Oh I know we have, but you and this mysterious parking-space-stealer girl might not have. I mean you can’t have gotten in very many words with how much time you spent fu-”

 

“Raven!” Clarke’s voice rises even as she desperately tries to limit it to a whisper.

 

“-cking. Like I don’t blame you, Griff. Look at those collarbones. Even I would die to run my hands all over-”

 

Clarke launches out of her seat to press her hand over Raven’s mouth successfully muffling the next words that come out of her mouth. But in her haste, she kicks the table leg hard and a resounding bang sounds through the library. Papers fly everywhere and it feels like time has slowed when, across the room, the brunette’s gaze snaps up and their eyes meet. Just looking at her sends a shiver down her spine and it’s enough to make Clarke wet. She smiles weakly at her. But instead of smiling back, the girl’s eyes widen and she jumps to her feet, nearly tripping over herself in an effort to leave the room.

 

Curly brown hair whips through the crack of the library’s sliding doors and Clarke buries her face in her hands with a groan.

 

“Fuck.”

 

 

//

 

 

The third time she sees her it’s also completely coincidental.

 

It has been two weeks and Clarke is beginning to get desperate. She had walked around campus aimlessly, attended all the major club meetings, and even waited outside the library around the same time of their last encounter all with no avail. The girl was a fucking ninja. Just as she was seriously considering hiring Monty, the smarty in her math class with crazy skills in the art of stalking, she found her. 

 

It’s five in the morning and Clarke swears that she is never going to procrastinate again. She had barely gotten four hours of sleep because of a lengthy lab write-up and is now running across campus to get it printed out in the library, the building that opens first in the morning.

 

When she arrives it’s still closed, but she barely registers. The girl that she was beginning to think was just a part of her imagination is now leaning against the stone wall of the staircase, hair loose, jacket unzipped, and scrolling lazily on her phone. It’s enough to make Clarke’s heart stop beating for a second before kicking back in full force, pumping blood conveniently to her upper cheeks and the spot between her legs. _Get it together, Griffin!_ She must’ve made some noise of surprise because a second later, the brunette’s head snaps up. Once again, green eyes widen as the girl pushes off the wall. She’s already whooshing past her in the time that it takes Clarke to blink and _fuck no,_ she’ll be damned if she lets this girl get away yet again. 

 

Her hand shoots out and wraps around the girl’s wrist before she can conclude that it would be a bad idea. 

 

“Wait!” Clarke says, voice desperate and a little breathy in her shock of finding her. 

 

The girl’s gaze meets hers again as she is tugged back and Clarke watches her throat wobble. The intensity of her those eyes leave Clarke breathless. It takes her a moment to realize that the girl is glaring at her and waiting for her to continue.

 

“Wait.” She repeats dumbly. “I-uh- Y-you ran away from me the other day.”

 

Her cheeks flush and she wants to smack herself on the forehead. _Smooth Griffin, why don’t you tell her that today’s Tuesday. She probably doesn’t know that either._

 

The girl bites her lip and looks away. She pulls her arm back, readjusts her backpack strap from where it hung loosely over her shoulder, and doesn’t say anything. She begins to turn away and it makes Clarke even more desperate. 

 

“It’s just,” Clarke sighs, running her hand through her hair, “you’re like a fucking ninja.” She huffs and ducks her head.

 

“I looked for you at orientation, went to like, all the club meetings, and stood in the cafeteria for the longest time. I even ran around the quad for a couple of days and hell, I don’t even like running!” She growls, only a bit concerned that she had begun to ramble.

 

“My friends told me I’m obsessed but…” Clarke trails off, not knowing how to appropriately finish that last thought.

 

“Your friends?” The girl offers quietly and Clarke is relieved. She closes her eyes briefly and lets the voice wash over her. It has been two months since they first met and Clarke is completely sure that the way the girl’s voice had sounded in her head is nothing compared to the real thing.

 

“Well, mostly Raven. You know, the girl that was in the library with me. She likes to tease me about anything and everything. It’s kind of, no _really_ annoying, but um, sorry is there something wrong?”

 

The brunette’s mouth had hardened into a thin line at the mention of the other girl. She seems to be struggling with herself, but then she blurts out, “Is she your girlfriend?”

  
  
Clarke blinks once. Twice. Then she draws her lips into her mouth to keep her laughter from spilling out, but it does anyways. She doubles over laughing and when her gaze snaps up, still full of mirth, the girl looks thoroughly offended. 

 

“Oh god, no no. Raven and I have been friends since way back.”

 

There’s a moment of… relief? that flickers in the brunette’s eyes before she carefully reconstructs it back into a cool and indifferent facade.

 

“We’re friends, just friends.” Clarke reassures, a little alarmed at how fast the girl was able to close herself off. Nevertheless, she can’t help but chuckle a little at the girl’s concern. 

 

“You said you were looking for me. Why?” The girl says carefully, pushing a strand of hair that had flown in her face behind her ear.

 

Clarke blows out the air in her lungs, puffing her cheeks in the process. “I-” She chokes and then grits her teeth. _It’s now or never._

 

“Ever since the um…  the car when I… and we…” 

 

Clarke’s fairly certain that she would rather the ground open up and swallow her whole than continue the statement she had just started, and she’s immensely relieved when the girl nods seriously and motions for her to go on. Clarke licks her lips and the girl follows the movement with her eyes. 

 

“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just having a really bad day and you were there driving _so slow_ and I was really really late.”

 

The girl’s eyes narrow and she purses her lips. Clarke hurries on.

 

“But then I… kissed you and we um… and now I really can’t get you out of my head.” She looks down blushing. “Like I’ve tried and stuff by drowning myself in work, but I’m so unproductive and it’s really not working.” Her eyebrows furrow when she thinks back to all the poorly conducted experiments she had performed in the past few weeks.

 

The girl nods and seems to understand as her gaze softens and Clarke takes that as an invitation to step closer.

 

“And so I tried really hard to find you, but like I said you’re basically a ninja and I have close to no stalking skills. But now that I’ve found you and you- you’re just- I can’t stop thinking about you.” She finishes weakly, staring at the ground. 

 

There’s a short silence that follows and Clarke is nervous that she said too much. But when she finally picks up her gaze, the girl’s eyes are dark and hooded and one hundred percent fixed on her lips. Suddenly Clarke’s throat feels extremely dry.

 

“Are you done talking?” 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Good.”

 

She’s all fire and need when she suddenly surges forwards and pushes Clarke back against the wall of the staircase, lips crashing against hers with bruising force. Clarke stumbles and lets out a small squeak of surprise when her back hits the hard stone, but the girl’s arms keep her in place as the rest of her body comes to press firmly against hers. Clarke moans and tangles her fingers in chestnut curls as the girl laps eagerly into her mouth. She lets herself enjoy the warmth that the other body provides in cool morning air and runs her tongue across the girl’s lower lip. She’s proud when it draws out a small hum of contentment and Clarke feels her heart swell. _This is crazy, I don’t even know her._

 

She honestly can’t tell why she is feeling such a strong pull of attraction towards this girl and by the looks of the girl’s eyes which just snapped open and are swirling with confusion, she didn’t know either. But it’s okay, Clarke tells herself. She feels warm, safe, and the happiest she has been since school started. It isn’t until the brunette’s fingers are dipping below the elastic band of her yoga pants that she realizes that their heavy PDA is probably going to get them both in trouble. But the library is closed and the dorms are _way_ too far, so she simply breaks their kiss, scooting back when the girl chases her lips longingly, and takes her hand. 

 

“Over here.”

 

She leads them up the staircase to a less conspicuous area between a thick pillar and the wall of the building, gasping as the girl draws her in and attaches her lips to Clarke’s neck, sucking hard. The girl pins her against the pillar and leans forward to kiss her again, her hands coming up to palm at Clarke’s breasts through her shirt as Clarke groans into her mouth. Fingers dip under her underwear again and she whines into the girl’s mouth as long fingers brush through her folds. She feels rather than hears the girl’s chest jerk a little as her breathing hitches at how positively soaked Clarke is. 

 

At the first curl of her fingers, Clarke knows she’s a goner. Never before has someone managed to work her up this quickly and she latches onto the girl like a lifeline, gasping and trembling under her touch. Brown curls brush softly against her face when her body spasms as she comes with a string of curses. The girl bites down on her lip and sucks it into her mouth before slowing down their kiss so that when she draws her fingers out of Clarke’s pants, their mouths are brushing gently together. She pulls back, green eyes shining, before popping the fingers that were in Clarke not a moment ago into her mouth, humming as she tastes her. 

 

Clarke groans as she watches her. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

 

It might’ve been her tone, but the girl laughs quietly and Clarke thinks that she would follow this girl to hell if that’s where she’s set on going. The girl presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth and wraps her arms around Clarke’s waist, protecting her back from where one of the ridges on the pillar had been digging into painfully and Clarke sighs. 

 

“So do I get to know your name? Or do I just call you terrible-driver-girl for the rest of our lives?”

 

The girl’s eyebrows shoot upwards and Clarke blushes as she realizes the implications of her words— that she’s interested in seeing this girl again. But then the girl smiles, an honest to god full on smile, the first genuine smile that Clarke has seen from her, and Clarke almost swoons. 

 

“Well.” The girl says slowly. “It depends on whether you’re planning on paying me back for that amazing orgasm I gave you.”

 

Clarke leans back and smirks. “Who says it was amazing?”

 

The girl narrows her eyes and Clarke laughs at her affronted expression. 

 

“I do.” Clarke says lowly, tracing along the tendons in the girl’s neck. “But name first.”

 

“Lexa… Woods.”

 

“Lexa.” Clarke repeats, testing the name out and she sees the girl’s throat bob. “I like it.”

 

“Glad you approve.” Lexa says, rolling her eyes. “Yours?”

 

“Clarke Griffin.”

 

It’s definitely not the usual way she meets people, but this was by far her favorite introduction. They’re still impossibly close, Lexa’s arms encircling her waist and her own thrown casually over Lexa’s shoulders. They were pressed flush against each other from legs to chests and Clarke could feel every breath that Lexa took as if it was her own. The sun was coming up now and the rays created a hallo around Lexa, making her look even more godly than before. Her sharp jawline is accentuated and the hard lines are undoubtedly a part of Lexa, but there is also something undeniably soft about her features— the long lashes, rosy cheeks, plump lips. 

 

“So…” Clarke spins them around abruptly, catching Lexa off guard. The backpack behind her softens the impact as Clarke pushes her back, but she still lets out a grunt. “I’m good at keeping promises.”

 

They pretend that they were just trying to stay in the shade when the librarian finally unlocks the door to the building, casting them reprimanding looks nevertheless. 

 

Lexa’s eyes light up as she scans the rows of books made available to her and Clarke quickly prints out her report, remembering with a frown that she had yet to put all her papers together in her dorm. She sighs when she realizes that the short encounter that she had with Lexa did nothing to fix the mess that is her life right now and she feels just a little bit depressed. 

 

If Lexa comes up besides her and puts an arm around her, tapping her elbow lightly, it’s definitely not because she was concerned about the sudden change in her mood, but rather to remind her that the librarian wanted to see her ID. 

 

If Lexa lingers a little too long before turning and pointing towards her dorm building, it’s definitely not because she wants to ask her for her number and get coffee with her next week, but rather because she needs to make sure that she didn’t leave anything in the library. 

 

If Lexa whips back around and tugs her forwards by her shirt to press one more kiss to her lips, blushing all the while, it’s definitely not because she _likes_ her. 

 

But because she wants to apologize for not having the time to walk her back. 

 

When the professor holds up her report and praises her in front of the class, Clarke just nods absentmindedly, thoughts already wandering to a certain brunette.

 

What major is she studying? What class is she in now? When will she see her next? Why the hell did she not get her number earlier?

 

Clarke still barely knows anything about her. They’re not friends. They’re basically strangers. 

 

But still, Clarke feels, with a flutter of hope, that there might just be something more.


	2. Fuck Buddies

They’re not friends.

 

They’re fuck buddies.

 

She should’ve known from the moment she met her that Clarke Griffin would be something that’s irresistible. The fire, a sort of beautiful anger that flashed in her eyes when she told her to park elsewhere. The gentle nips along the underside of her jawline. The fact that she could make Lexa cum faster than anyone else and did so in the confined space of a car. Those. Those were all the warnings she should have needed. 

 

Octavia sighs from beside her and she blinks rapidly at her screen. “Why won’t you tell me who it is? I thought we were best friends, Lex.”

 

“Because you and I both know that you would bug me constantly and then bug her constantly. It’s not something I’m going to deal with while I have this paper due tomorrow.”

 

“But you like her, right?”

  
  
“I don’t know anything about her except that she’s decent in bed.”

 

“Decent? Really, Lex?" Octavia shoots her the famous Blake brow raise. "Could’ve fooled me.”

  
  
Lexa blushes then. It’s unfortunate enough to have a nosy roommate, but to have sex with a girl that is particularly _excellent_ in bed while said nosy roommate is home is a different story altogether. 

 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back early!” Lexa growls.

 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone back.” Octavia retorts. 

 

They glare at each other for a beat before Lexa sighs, leans back in her chair, and rubs her eyes.

 

“Okay so she’s really good in bed, so?”

 

“Sooo,” Octavia drawls out, “when do I get to meet her?”

 

She’s way too cheery for nine o’clock at night and she flops down on Lexa’s bed, rumpling her bed sheets in a beautiful way that she knows Lexa hates. 

 

“You don’t.” There’s no room for argument in her voice, but Octavia whines anyways.

 

“At least tell me her name. I can introduce myself.” She says with a wink. “Please Lex, pleeeease. I’ll buy you a month’s worth of ice-cream, no joke.”

 

Lexa sighs. If there’s one person that can get almost anything out of her, it’s Octavia. The girl knows all her weaknesses (incessant pleading, rocky road ice-cream, etc.), not that there were many. But when they were hit in the right way, at the right time, particularly on work-heavy school nights, Lexa found herself giving in.

 

“Her name is Clarke.” Lexa grumbles. It’s barely audible, but Octavia shoots off the bed to stand in front of her.

 

“Clarke? Clarke as in Clarke Griffin?”

 

Lexa’s eyes widen. “You _know_ her?”

  
  
“Blonde, blue eyes, my height?”

 

Lexa groans and turns away. “Just my luck. You know her. Close to fifteen thousand students at this freaking school and you know her. Oh my god.”

 

But Octavia’s not listening anymore. She’s too busy laughing hysterically and singing “It’s A Small World” and honestly, Lexa doesn’t even want to know how she knows her. It could be through some sort of illegal activity that Octavia's not entirely above partaking in and Lexa's not sure if she’s ready to discover that side of Clarke yet. All she wants to do is curl up in a ball and die because she’s sure that the next few days will be filled with teasing and not so subtle sex jokes. 

 

“Octavia,” she pleads, spinning back around mortified. “Do _not_ bother her.” Lexa demands. “Or tell her that I said she was good in bed.”

 

It’s all glares and threats now as she attempts to bully the other girl into submission.

 

“Woah, woah. Okay there Commander, relax.” Octavia is still chuckling. “We have art together. She seems really chill and her stuff is amazing. I’m complete shit put next to her, like seriously, that girl can draw.”

 

Lexa feels herself relaxing a bit. Art class. Of course. Clarke had let slip while they were catching their breathes between rounds that she was dying to draw her, and really Lexa should have connected the dots sooner. She is secretly glad that they didn’t know each other from something else because she is well aware of the party girl status that Octavia has developed for herself.

  
  
“As for the second one. I’m pretty sure she knows she’s good in bed.” Octavia says smirking. 

 

Lexa glares at her. 

 

“I mean you were practically screaming. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you that loud. Not even while we watched horror movies.”

 

“No. I’m not having this conversation with you. Go take a walk or something.”

 

“Awww Lexie’s got a crush.” Octavia sing-songs.

 

“Out.”

 

“Alright.” Octavia laughs as she prances across the room. “Tell me when you admit your little obsession with the blondie.” 

 

Her laughter floats through the walls even as it fades down the hall and Lexa drops her head onto her desk with a groan.

 

 

//

 

 

It’s by far the best decision she’s made, walking down the hall to refill her water, because currently she’s pressed against the mattress, a warm body on hers, hands clenching and unclenching the sheets beneath her. 

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She gasps as Clarke pushes into her and flicks her clit with her tongue. Her fingers tug on blonde locks, urging Clarke closer and she presses harder into her. Lexa groans and throws her head back. 

 

“Shit!” 

 

Clarke hums and the vibrations bring her to the edge. “ _Clarke._ ”

 

She’s so close and it’s so so good that she’s almost tearing up. “Harder, please!”

 

Two of Clarke’s slender fingers are pumping into her and then she curls them twice and it’s all over.

 

“Fuck!” She whines and comes hard. And by hard she means hips jerking, thighs shaking hard. The type of hard that requires Clarke to pull herself up and press kisses along her collarbones while her fingers move lazily inside of her, bringing her down. And when she finally pulls out, Lexa is so swollen and sensitive that she has to bring her own hand down to spread her folds because they were crowding her clit to the point of discomfort. Clarke is laughing above her and she wants to kiss her but doesn’t have the energy to lift her head up. But Clarke knows like she always knows and dips her head down to fit their lips neatly together. For a moment their lips brush against each other and Lexa feels content. 

 

“So did that help?” Clarke asks as she pulls back and presses their foreheads together. She is still sprawled on top of her, rubbing her hip lightly and Lexa secretly enjoys the warm press of her skin. 

 

“Yes.” Lexa mumbles and Clarke smiles. She feels her heart jolt a little as blue eyes twinkle at her. “Thank you.”

 

Clarke just laughs again. There’s a sort of yearning that coils deep in her stomach as she watches the sunlight streaming in through the windows, bathing Clarke in a gentle yellow light. Blonde hair tumbles naturally down her bare shoulders and Lexa has to turn away, the pull becoming too overwhelming.

 

“You know, Lexa. You had my number so you could’ve just called.”

 

Lexa blushes. “Yeah, I know. I just… had a lot of work.”

 

“What type of work?” Clarke rolls to the side of her and props herself up on an elbow.

 

Lexa’s sure that the line between no strings attached and strings attached is blurring with each time she sees Clarke. Every time their touches get lighter, the foreplay gets longer, and last time she had even fallen asleep only to wake up clutching Clarke against her with an embarrassingly tight grip. But this is the first time that Clarke has asked her about anything besides how she’d like to cum next and Lexa’s not really sure how to respond.

 

“I…” She hesitates. “I’m a Poli-Sci major so we had a lot of case work due.”

 

It’s not completely a lie. They did have a lot of work. It’s just that Lexa could have finished a lot faster if she wasn’t busy thinking about Clarke. Who was she? What type of coffee does she prefer? Did she sleep with other people? Is she a morning person? Or more of a night owl?

 

“Oh, that sounds difficult.” Clarke says, tracing down her bare arm. “Do you like it?”

 

A trail of goosebumps follow Clarke’s fingers and Lexa is sure that they’re crossing the line now.

 

“Um…”

 

Clarke must have picked up on her hesitancy because she pulls her hand back and sits up. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I just- Yeah, I’m going to go now.”

 

Her furrowed eyebrows create a small crease on her forehead that Lexa is dying to press a kiss to and see if it would go away, but she doesn’t. _It’s better this way._ She doesn’t do relationships and she told Clarke as much a few weeks ago when they ran into each other in an empty classroom. She remembers Clarke smiling up at her as she wiped her mouth. “Do you always fuck in public places?” Clarke had said as she grabbed Lexa’s hand and scrawled her number across her wrist. Then she had leaned up and pressed a kiss on her cheek and it was too gentle, too much, and Lexa had blurted it out without thinking. 

 

“This is just sex. No strings.”

 

She can still see the flash of unnamed emotion in Clarke’s eyes before she nodded slowly. “No strings.” 

 

Even now, lying in her bed as Clarke pulls on her pants, Lexa sticks to her words. Relationships are messy and almost always, they leave Lexa regretting. She really doesn’t want to mess up whatever it is they have right now, this easy contact, easy sex type of thing. But then Clarke looks back at her, still bare waist up and smiles and Lexa is a mess of wants, needs. 

 

“Hey. Call.” Clarke tells her. “Don’t be a stranger okay?”

 

Lexa nods as Clarke tugs on her shirt and swings the door open, disappearing with a hasty goodbye and Lexa thinks that being fuck buddies is still better than being just strangers.

 

 

//

 

 

So it continues. 

 

It only takes her a few messages to figure out the location of Clarke’s dorm room and so a simple text thereafter usually sufficed. 

 

A quick “tmrw after lunch my place” or an “are you free rn?” usually ends up in some of the greatest nights in her life. 

 

It’s all good until someone unavoidably catches them. In this case, it would be none other than Raven Reyes.

 

“How the _fuck_ do you have a refrigerator?” Lexa gasps as Clarke rolls her nipple between deft fingers. Clarke gives her one last lick before standing and replacing her tongue with two fingers that have Lexa slamming her head back into said refrigerator. 

 

“I actually bought it so I could fuck you against it.” She says seriously and Lexa has to pull her head back to look at her incredulously. She groans as Clarke pulls her back with a growl and pushes her fingers deeper into her. 

 

“You did not.” Lexa grits out. Clarke laughs and it does something funny to her stomach. 

 

“No I didn’t.” She agrees and continues to fuck her. “But it say’s ‘multipurpose’ on the door.” Lexa’s head is spinning and her eyes are rolling back when, suddenly, the door clicks and swings open.

 

“Clarke you won’t believe what I just- _holy fuck,_ mother of-” 

 

There’s a clatter that has Lexa’s eyes flying open and Clarke’s fingers slipping out of her fast. 

 

“What the hell! Raven what are you doing here?” Clarke presses closer to her, shielding her body from Raven who was standing stock still in front of the door with a pile of food items scattered in a half circle around her. It would’ve been hilarious if she wasn’t still naked and Lexa shifts in Clarke’s arms uneasily. 

 

“Raven could you um- turn around for a second?” 

 

Raven snaps out of her shock and spins the opposite way babbling at a pace that has Lexa’s eyes widening in awe. They dress hastily, though it’s mainly Lexa as they hadn’t gotten to Clarke yet. By the time Lexa re-tunes in to whatever Raven is spewing from her mouth she can make out a—

 

“Jesus Christ, this is my room too, what do you mean what am I doing here. I’ll have you know that I was just trying to be nice, buying some ice-cream from a nearby grocery store to test out the new mini-fridge, but okay I swear I will never try to be a nice person ever again if this is what I get in return!” 

 

“Raven, Raven.” Clarke is approaching the other girl like one would approach a wild animal and it seems like Lexa’s eyes are permanently stretched wide by this point. “You can turn around now.”

 

Raven whips back around and stares at them. There’s an awkward moment where Raven’s gaze flickers back and forth between them, Clarke stares determinedly at her roommate, daring her to comment, and Lexa just takes a small step back. 

 

“So you’re Lexa.” 

 

It’s slower, almost a drawl. And behind her words, Lexa is almost positive that there’s a small smirk somewhere. She nods wordlessly.

 

“The hot one that Clarke fucked in a car.”

 

Lexa blushes, but nods again.

 

“Huh. You’re right,” Raven says, bending down to pick up the groceries that are still scattered on the ground. “She’s not much of a talker. But it’s okay, the amount that Clarke talks about you is enough to cover for the both of you.”

 

Clarke makes a noise of protest and helps her with the groceries. “Don’t listen to her, Lexa. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Clarke says flushing.

 

“I don’t know what I’m talking about? You can work on your bio project by yourself then you smartypants.”

 

Lexa doesn’t know what to do as she watches Clarke and Raven move around each other with a familiarity that only comes with lots of time spent  together. She can’t help but feel the old spark of jealousy reappear from within her even though she knows that there is nothing going on between them and works to keep her face neutral. When Raven holds the ice-cream way out of Clarke’s reach and says, “God knows where those hands have been. Wait, scratch that I do too” and shoots a glare at Lexa, she feels like it’s time for her to leave. 

 

Mouth drawn into a thin line and shoulders stiff, she excuses herself and walks to the door.

 

“Lexa wait!” Clarke catches up to her and grabs her by the wrist, much like the other day when they had officially met. Though she’s a bit upset, Clarke touch has never been unwelcome. “She’s not actually mad at you. That’s just how Raven meets new people.”

 

Behind Clarke, she can see Raven straightening and walking over as well and she swallows nervously. She expects some more sarcastic comments, but surprisingly, Raven looks away and mutters, “Sorry. I was just shocked. It’s not every day that you walk in on your roommate having sex.” The way that Raven scratches the back of her neck would be endearing if Lexa wasn’t still scared that she might suddenly explode in more expletives. 

 

Lexa nods warily. “I should still get going though. It was nice meeting you.” She offers Raven a small smile that might have come out as more of a grimace and Raven scoots back in acceptance. 

 

“Nice to meet you too, Lexa. Don’t be a stranger.”

 

She slips out of the room and Clarke follows her. They’re barely two feet away from the closed door when Clarke presses her against the wall and sucks at her neck.

 

“Clarke.” Lexa gasps, hands falling to Clarke’s hips. “We’re in public.”

 

“It’s never stopped you before.” Clarke replies coyly and Lexa is forced to close her eyes. Then the sucking stops and she opens her eyes to see blue ones staring back at her. Her breathing hitches as she watches a range of different emotions pass through. Then Clarke closes the gap between their lips and kisses her softly. “I’m sorry about that.” She murmurs, fingers twirling and playing with a strand of Lexa’s hair. 

 

“It’s okay.” And really, it was. For some reason, after seeing Clarke, her mind is always a lot clearer, more focused, even if it was just passing her by in the halls and sending her small smiles across the quad. Clarke grins and pecks her lips one more time before pushing away. 

 

“We’ll finish this later.” She promises, shoots Lexa a wink, and slips in her room before Lexa can respond. The door shuts and Lexa leans against the wall. Slowly, she closes her eyes. She thinks of how good Clarke is at keeping her promises and gulps.

 

_This girl is going to be the death of me._

 

 

//

 

 

“So I talked to Clarke today.” 

 

Lexa whips around so fast that her neck crackles and Octavia throws her head back laughing.

 

“What did you say to her?” Lexa hisses, rubbing at her neck. She can’t even explain why she’s so nervous, but she is. 

 

“I didn’t say anything to her actually, but she did say a lot about _you._ ” Octavia retorts wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Lexa is unable to stop her curiosity.

 

“Oh. What did she say?” 

 

She almost cringes at her own eagerness and blushes when Octavia laughs again. 

 

“She likes you.”

 

Lexa’s stomach flips pleasantly. “She doesn’t know me.”

 

“Well from what she does know, she seems to like it all.” Octavia says and it’s a lot more serious than usual. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

 

“I do talk to her.”

 

“You know what I mean.” Octavia huffs. “Like take her out for coffee or something. Something that doesn’t involve you two fucking each others brains out.”

 

Lexa sighs. “I can’t, Octavia. You know I don’t do relationships.”

 

“Yes, but all I’m saying is give her a chance. Is that too much to ask for?”

 

Lexa clenches her jaw and her reply immediately pops up in her head. “Yes. I’m not looking for anything more.”

 

“Lexa, you deserve to be happy. What happened with your family-”

 

“What happened with my family has nothing to do with you.” Lexa snaps. The words are aimed to hurt, but Lexa still cringes inside when Octavia draws back from her like she’s been slapped. But the girl lurches back in an instant, eyebrows furrowing angrily, and maybe that’s why they’re friends. Lexa knows that no matter how many mistakes she makes, however much she tries to push Octavia away, the girl will never leave her side. She’s as stubborn as stone and Lexa loves her for it. 

 

“You know better than that. I was there too.” Octavia says.

 

They stare at each other in silence until Lexa sighs and nods. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

 

That does it and Octavia crosses their room in a flash. She knows better than to argue with Lexa on this topic. It never went well and never will. So she just pulls Lexa towards her and throws her arms around her shoulders. When Octavia speaks, her voice is muffled by the fabric of Lexa’s sweater. “I love you, but sometimes I think you’re very very wrong. This is one of those times.”

 

Lexa tries to push her away halfheartedly and pretends to gag when Octavia only squeezes her harder, but her arms come around to clutch at Octavia just as tightly.

 

“Nah, I’m always right.”

 

 

//

 

 

She manages to last another two months before she realizes that:

 

Oh god, she is so wrong. 

 

There’s a boy that’s making Clarke laugh, leaning just a tad too close for her liking, and Lexa glares daggers at him from across the cafeteria. 

 

“This is honestly so pathetic, Lexa. Why don’t you just go over and talk to her?” It’s Anya, and she’s beginning to regret sitting next to her cousin and her best friend who happen to be very similar in that they both enjoy watching Lexa squirm. 

 

“Yeah I don’t think she quite feels your presence,” Octavia says, trying her best not to laugh before her eyebrows shoot up, “but she does feel something else.”

 

Lexa’s looks back and sees the boy putting an arm around Clarke’s shoulders and Clarke uncomfortably shifting away. Her eyesight goes red for a minute and she doesn’t know how, but suddenly she’s in front of their table. Some of Clarke’s other friends are sitting with them as well— a sweet looking asian boy, a shaggy haired boy with… goggles?, a gentle looking girl, and Raven— but Lexa ignores them all. She marches up to the boy who’s still trying to touch Clarke.

 

“Come on, Clarke. My arm doesn’t have teeth.”

 

“Stop it Finn, I’m—”

 

Lexa slams a hand on the table and Raven jolts up, kicking her feet off the edge of the table where they were propped. “Lexa?” She says in shock. 

 

Clarke spins around to look at her, but Lexa’s gaze is fixed on the boy. “She says she doesn’t want you touching her.” Lexa growls. 

 

To her left, Raven is staring at her like she can’t quite believe that this is happening. The rest of the table has gone silent, intent on watching the scenario in front of them unfold. It’s almost like they’re expecting to watch a movie and Lexa fights the urge to laugh hysterically. The boy only scoffs and sits up straighter, arm still thrown across Clarke’s shoulders and Lexa’s eyes narrow. 

 

“And who’re you?” He asks carelessly, disrespectfully.

 

She’s vaguely aware of everyone’s eyes on her as Clarke’s friends take her in. She wonders if they see the same anger, fire, red reflecting off of her that she feels inside and she wonders if they think she’s crazy. The situation certainly feels crazy to her and she doesn’t really know what she’s thinking. Maybe it’s because she isn’t thinking at all, but the words spill out of her before she can stop them.

 

“I’m her girlfriend.”

 

Silence. There’s a moment of complete and utter silence when the words squeeze into six sets of ears and everyone sits still, not able to put them together and piece out their meaning yet. The world slows, conversation around Lexa distorting to a low garble and it’s… strangely calm, liberating. Then the words hit and the world speeds up. Fast, too fast, so fast that it’s all out of control and Lexa’s head starts spinning. Raven lets out a strangled noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh and Clarke freezes. Lexa’s own eyes widen, but she doesn’t take them back, only looks defiantly at the boy whose mouth has dropped open in shock. He turns around to look at Clarke, arm falling away (finally, Lexa thinks). 

 

“Clarke?”

 

Clarke is still staring at Lexa in awe and Lexa looks away, waiting for the moment to come. The rejection. The searing embarrassment. She wonders why the fuck she even came over here because now she’s pretty sure that she’s just ruined to the most effortless relationship in her life. But the moment of rejection never comes. There’s a whooshing sound as Clarke spins around to face Finn and says, “Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m not the cheating type.” 

 

Raven chokes as Clarke’s fingers on one hand come up to play with Lexa’s hair that hangs just an inch above the table, and her other hand traces lightly down Lexa’s arm. Now it’s Lexa turn to swing around and stare at her disbelievingly. _What the hell just happened?_ When their eyes meet, Clarke gives her one of her signature small smiles and it’s the first time that Lexa actually thanks the Lord for making humans imperfect because she has never been so happy to make a mistake in her entire life. Clarke’s blue eyes are swimming with mirth as she scoots her chair closer so that she can lean against Lexa. 

 

“We haven’t been dating for long but,” Clarke bites her lip, eyes still on her, “she’s kind of a big deal.”

 

It’s no more than a whisper and Lexa thinks that she should be a bit nervous that she had just gotten herself into a relationship with a girl she barely knows, but all she can do is gloat as the boy stammers unintelligibly and excuses himself. She feels her heart squeeze when Clarke leads her out of the cafeteria, pushes her into a hidden alcove, and says lowly, “So do you want to tell me what that was all about?”

 

Lexa gulps and tries to look away, but then again, when has she ever been able to look away from Clarke Griffin. “Not particularly.” She winces and tries again, “I’m sorry, we can go back and tell them if you want.”

 

And for the second time that day, Clarke surprises her.

 

“No.” Clarke murmurs, arms wrapping around her neck and pressing their bodies together. “You’ve been my girlfriend since way before this. You just didn’t know it.”

 

When they kiss, Lexa tries not to think about how Clarke’s words started a fire in her veins. Tries not to think about how fast she responds to Clarke’s fingers dipping under her shirt.

 

They didn’t know each other, but somehow, they did.

 

They’re not friends, they’re supposed to be fuck buddies, but somehow they end the day as girlfriends. 

 

It’s enough to give a girl a headache. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> leave me some comments :)


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